There is perhaps no better way to start the week leading up to the Hollywood Foreign Press Association's Golden Globe Awards than with a set of Directors Guild Nominations that throw the entire Oscar race into question.
In the past weeks, more and more publications have done their best to point out the disparity between Globe winners and Oscar winners in years past -- particular during these, the dark days of ten nominees. However, what these publications fail to notice - time and again - is the remarkable symmetry between the nominees. The question, it seems, is how much advertising, press, guild momentum, and screeners can flood the market in the brief time between Globe Night and Oscar Night -- six weeks, this year. The Oscar nominations are a mere 8.25 days after the Globes and this sort of crunch time -- as I mentioned in this very blog time and again last year -- seems to have only given further credence to the Globes while mildly weakening the statue I so adore (Moses, can you hear me now?). It's an Oscar, so it's going to take a lot more. But being head and shoulders above the rest is its claim to fame. Encroachment should be dealt with swiftly and wisely.
In the simplest of terms, McCue's current theory is that the crunch time and expansion of best picture nominees to ten -- which is now "up to ten" and supposed to be more thrilling but is ultimately nothing more than odd -- has given HFPA a leg up. If your nominees are going to match and you're going to match the winners bordering on 66%, then the first guy out of the gate seems to have a bit more credence. Oscar is, after all, Oscar. He'll be difficult to topple. But the Golden Globes, which the Academy long brushed aside as the RC Cola -- nay the White Rock -- of accolades has slid right into Pepsi position. Why else dig deep with Billy Crystal (who I am thrilled is returning) except Gervais? Sure, they had Eddie Murphy -- but it seems after Ratner's gaffe, Murphy would have been bullet-riddled by the time Ricky was through with him. I remember when the Globes were hostless. Someone introduced Miss Golden Globe who usually tipped her shoulders forward to hide her budding boobs, and the evening went on. Ricky Gervais two years in a row -- despite a (completely inflated) controversy? NBC ain't messing around.
Then there's today, the Monday before the Globes with Scorsese, Payne, Hazanavicius (scourge of Kim Novak!), Woody Allen ... and there he is folks, David Fincher as this year's Directors Guild Nominees.
What does this say for Oscar?
Does this mean Spielberg is out? Is War Horse headed for the glue factory? Because I thought it was marvelous!
Does this mean Woody is in for the first time since 1994? (I go by the year films came out, not the year trophies are distributed.)
What does this say for Tate Taylor? Something tells me not to count Tate Taylor out. I have a feeling he may Driving Miss Daisy this ball to the hoop -- directing nod or not. There's something about The Help that has me wondering whether it will take the cake (hopefully devoid of a certain ingredient). You heard it here, folks! Tate Taylor may well be a modern day Bruce Beresford!
Then again, this Fincher DGA nom may not be guilt over last year's award tease -- he could be a late arrival. The press was locked out of many screenings. He did masterful work. Though it highly resembled the Swedish original, there was enough Finch-touch to make it his own. Furthermore, Dragon Tattoo isn't something that's easy to replicate while putting your personal, established, stylistic spin on it. (As I have mentioned more than once, I'll address each film individually as the Oscars approach.) But folks are acting like having the existing novel and Swedish film made the Fincher version a snap. I suggest getting the cash, film rights, and trying it yourself. He did, after all, discover Rooney Mara -- who may well end up an actress nominee. He assembled a nice band of the most Aryan looking group of Hollywooders for the ride. I love the man, but you're digging deep with Julian Sands. Then again, who the else has such a perfect look? That's Fincher. Yet -- having said all that, I wonder if his footing is solid. Spielberg's omission seems ludicrous and the possibility of Dragon Tattoo getting a picture nom only seems feasible if the nominees stretch up past eight. Sooner or later, Fincher will have his winning year. He's not a Schnabel. He's not a Kieslowski. He's hardly the "being nominated was award enough" type. In the harsh light of day (or night, depending on which part of Sweden you're currently in) doesn't that seem all this is? A nom as an award, not as validation of the fact that Finch actually has a shot at winning. Prove me wrong awards year -- prove me wrong. But that's what the gut says.
Perhaps because the only difference between the Globes and the DGA is that they swapped Clooney for Fincher. Thus, the other four seem to be in prime position for Oscar nominations. Are these the four fixed, leaving a wild card slot? Odds are. It seems for Sunday's purposes, Marty has it in the bag -- unless the Weinsteins can truly get everyone aboard the silent -- but possibly deadly -- train. I would obviously love Woody to take both scribe and helmer -- but the odds of that seem slim and I'm delicately walking on Annette Bening like eggshells when it comes to the Wood-man's Globe and Oscar chances.
So, folks, what we've got here is a full on shake up.
We're looking at an unconfirmed year that doesn't even have a front-runner with possible upset nipping at its heels as we had at this point for so many years. And I mean the legit years. Not years where Scorsese was getting the Globe for Gangs of New York -- years where we thought he was getting it for The Aviator and yet Michael Mann got the statue for picture while the ever so slinking Million Dollar Baby was already through the door, giving Eastwood the directing trophy, and waiting to knock off The Spruce Goose come Oscar time. Bigelow went trophy-less as did The Hurt Locker for picture -- but it was clear it was a two dog fight with the blue folk losing footing with each dollar it grossed. The switcheroo from Social Network to King's Speech is something I still marvel at. I love Colin Firth more than the next guy and I can see how his highness outdid Zuckerberg. But it was Facebook's to lose. Where does that apply this year?
Hugo can't possibly be considered a picture lock. The Artist? If it pulls it off, it will be more as a default victor that had some Harvey shoulder behind it. A silent, black and white film, with a French lead? You can Life As Beautiful me all you want - it didn't win picture. Furthermore, we're talking about a type of film that had actually been made for nearly 30 straight years. There was plenty of source material to draw from. Masterfully as it was made -- and I will go through each film once the Globes have passed -- I wonder how many actors who vote in the Academy will want to ditch the microphone. Personally, I had a column in college called "Talkies Are Just A Fad." But I stumbled upon that phrase as a witty retort and decided it was a good header for my film write-ups. There's something about The Artist that doesn't have "it." It may at the Globes -- where there are two categories -- but can it hold?
Furthermore, it's in the comedy category against Bridesmaids, Midnight in Paris, 50/50 (my little buddy), and the remarkably unfunny (yet quite good) My Week With Marilyn. A black and white silent winning the hearts of the Hollywood Foreign Press may seem like a no-brainer once the envelop is opened. Then again -- can't the same be said of Bridesmaids and Midnight in Paris?
What about the dramas? One wonders how Hugo, The Help, and The Descendants ended up on this side of the aisle. Then again, The Player won best comedy so who the hell knows what lands a flick in one pocket or the other. Rounding out the dirty-half dozen are War Horse, Moneyball, and Ides. On one level it seems folks are doing everything in their power to ensure Clooney will attend. He will. So will Pitt and Spielberg. But again, a clear winner is a tricky pick.
If the pictures were aligned properly giving The Help comedy and War Horse drama -- then I'd say we have a horse race on our hands, realize that's not even close to a good War Horse joke, that I didn't intend one, consider making a dog race joke, and then simply say -- we've at least have a boxing match. The Globes can be screwy - hailing the completely snubbed (save song) Evita -- giving it to dear old Bugsy while Silence of the Lambs goes down as one of the only films to win the top five honors -- going Hours -- Atonement -- Robert Altman for Gosford Park -- to watch it all swept away by the Kodak, Shrine, or Dorothy Chandler Pavillion -- depending on the year.
This year is pure chaos. In the coming days I'll do my best to untangle this Globe-knot. And I encourage you all to make your predictions Saturday night. I'm NOTORIOUSLY lousy at picking the Globes because I go with my heart and only have critics circles as a reference point -- as if those have told us anything! But in what is hopefully the final days of the "more than five" Oscar era -- note how tricky it is to nail down who's taking a Golden Boy without knowing the Globe victors.
Tomorrow I'll go over my favorite dozen films of the year in the briefest terms. That can give you a look-see into where this blogger's coming from this year.
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